Glittering Glass
by Difficult-notImpossible
Summary: He had gotten his wish.A voice screamed in his head,loud and deafening,the shrill of pure terror ringing in his ears as she screamed his name. . He continued to yell,demanding to know where he friends were.Where his sister was.A night of fun gone wrong.
1. Light

_AN: Yay! I'm back! Ugh, Ive had such a bad case of writers block lately... I feel like clawing my brain out with a spork :p But anyways... to ease the mind of those of you that actually read my stuff (i know theres not much of you...) and to entertain MYSELF as I try to come up with some new material... I have written this. _

_Honesltly, I have no idea where it came from... but it has escaped the confused mess that is my mind. Obviously, its not just a one shot... but I'm not exactly sure when I'll be able to update it. Its not like these chapters just write themselves... I wish they did. It would make my life so much simpler..._

_But anyways... here it is. It'll probably have some OCs in it... I'm not sure yet. And no, it will not be completely focused on Kendall (as the show is now starting to do, much to my dissapointment). _

_Please review. You guys inspire me to write more. I can't write when I'm discouraged... and your reviews encourage me :) _

_Well I'll stop rambling and let you read... its not much.. but it'll have to do. _

_Again... review. PLEASE. _

* * *

Bright white lights, starting as a single white spec in the darkness before it started advancing, the size and shape becoming larger and larger as the object came closer. You couldn't see it at first, almost as if the small size of the lights assured your safety.

The brightness was blinding, overwhelming as it stretched out in front of him, and covering every inch of his sight almost as if telling him that there was nowhere to hide. Nowhere to escape. He didn't have time to do much. His mind hadn't registered what was going on until after it had happened. The light was so vast, so mighty, so powerful, and so hypnotizing; it had frozen him completely, shut his mind away from the world and refused to let him think of anything. Just that simple white light, burning him to his very core….

And everything went black.

Suddenly he knew what was going on. He understood what had happened, and he became completely aware of everything, even though it was much too late. He was already dead. He couldn't do much at this point except prepare himself for what lie ahead. He felt like crying, but he couldn't. He wanted to mourn over himself; for he was hesitant if anyone was going to mourn for him. All he could think of was that light, and he wished he could see it again.

A blanket of glittering glass.

They all lay there, still and motionless, against the cold, damp road, just waiting. Waiting for someone to come find them. Waiting for someone to care and call for help. Waiting to wake up and face the intense pain.

Waiting to die.

Hundreds, thousands, _millions_ of microscopic pieces of shattered glass surrounded them, shining with every light that they could magnify, calling out to anyone who would just stop and listen. "Help!" they screamed mutely. "Please, someone help them!" Certain shards were stained a sick crimson, explaining the sad story of the innocent children who just wanted to have some fun. A once useful hockey helmet sat far away from its owner, weeping tearlessly for the failure of serving its purpose: To protect the head on which it was constantly being worn.

Yards away the bodies lay, and a cold breeze flew by, dancing gracefully through their hair, tickling their cheeks, begging for one of them to wake up. The trees bent over and cried, pleading, "Wake up. Please. Save yourselves." But not one of them moved. The sky opened up and sobbed, rain droplets pattering against their skin, the mournful atmosphere evident to all who chose to care.

They stay there for hours, until finally the pale of their cold skin was stained red and blue by the bright lights that made it towards them. A loud siren rang out, screaming in desperation for all to move so she could save them. She rang louder and longer, calling out the unconscious bodies, telling them to hold on. Though most knew they didn't have the strength to hold on anymore. The glass shards glittered violently, calling out and giving the siren directions. The rain willed them to wake up to see the miracle God had sent them, and the wind pushed against their motionless bodies, growing impatient.

The ambulance finally skidded to a stop, and the bright lights were once more, shining the light on the horrific scene before them. A multitude of desperate EMTs flooded out of the back as more vehicles started to pull up and radios started to call for backup. The siren rested her voice, but her lights still flickered, and finally caught his attention.

He had gotten his wish. The lights were there, but they were no longer threatening or overwhelming or hypnotizing. A voice screamed in his head, loud and deafening, the shrill of pure terror ringing in his ears as she screamed his name.

"_Kendall!"_

His eyes burst open as a long beep rang in his ears and a her scream deepened, getting louder and louder until he realized he was the one screaming, the lights flashing in his mind over and over again as the doctors struggled to hold him down. A loud beep echoed through the small room he was in and it smelled of blood and morphine. Dozens of cold, gloved hands pressed against his body and pushed him down, but he continued to scream. He continued to yell, demanding to know where he friends were. Where his sister was. He ignored the sharp and intense pain in his head and side as he shouted, the confusion of many masked faces and the lights on the roof and the beep of the heart monitor and her scream echoing in his mind overwhelming him. The beeps started to speed up and the doctors started to yell things back and forth.

Then he was gone once more.

* * *

R.

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V.

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w.

P.

L.

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S.

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:)


	2. Pain

_**I've made a couple of changes to this chapter, considering that some of you were getting a bit confused... heh. They're not HUGE changes, but just little things I added so that it could be a bit more clear. **_

**_Okay... so here's part 2 of Glittering Glass... which is probably the most impulsive story I have ever written. _**

**_None of this is planned, folks. :) _**

**_All I know, is that this is the only medicine for wriers block i have... and its working ever so slowly... so be patient with me. I've been working on Broken... but that's not coming up for a while... _**

**_So enjoy this for now... Please. And review. Also please. Tell your friends about this and tell THEM to review. I'll be very happy. _**

**_So last chapter was KEndall... this one is Carlos. I was thinking of doing the same scene from different POVs but that just drags on. This might be a little longer than I wanted, but whatevr. Don't get too confused on the time, i tried to make the flashback pretty clear because I don't like italisizing Flashbacks... ;) _**

**_The song theyre listening in the car is PAIN by THREE DAYS GRACE by the way. I love that song... and its a bit ironic considering Carlos' condition. _**

**_I gotta stop talking. _**

**_Just one more thing. They boys are around 18 in this. Katie is 13. Just a heads up. _**

**_Read on. _**

* * *

He couldn't move, he knew that much.

The pain that wrapped around his body was practically unbearable, pinning him to the rough concrete of the street, and he could barely register a moan as he struggled to open his eyes. The sky above him was dark and cloudy; and he searched and searched, but he couldn't find one star to wish on. The moon refused to show itself, leaving him alone to this intense pain that didn't want to go away.

He tried to sit up, to lift his head, to move a finger, wiggle a toe, but nothing happened. He couldn't. Pain overthrew the small amount of strength he was able to build up, leaving him immobile on the street. The pain wouldn't go away, managing to intensify with every blink of an eyelid, the fire burning his inner organs growing with every breath he took.

He stared up into the sky—which was all he _could_ do—and prayed.

He prayed for the pain he was being forced to endure. He prayed for the possibility of someone finding him. He prayed to be woken up from this horrible nightmare his unconscious had conjured up from watching too many movies. He prayed that Mrs. Knight wouldn't be too mad about the fact that he forgot to make his bed that morning. He prayed for the chance to go back and fix that bed. He prayed for the chance to be yelled at by Gustavo again.

Then he remembered that he wasn't the only one in the car.

The music was too loud, but he didn't care, he liked it like that. He enjoyed having the sound of drums pound against his ears and facing the possibility of a hearing aid later in life. A bright smile played on his lips as he sang along, his voice being drowned out by the volume of the song. A laugh escaped him and harmonized with many others as someone's voice cracked, Logan's feeble complaints that the speakers were close to bursting forgotten. All had broken out into a fit a giggles and snickers as eyes searched for the culprit that refused to admit it had been him.

Kendall's hands smacked against the steering wheel in rhythm to the beat as Katie bobbed her head to the tempo, a huge smile stretching out her cheeks. James stopped singing every once in a while to recuperate from the dizziness brought on by extreme head banging, his eyes seeming to roll around in his head as he tried to decipher which way was right.

A loud and goofy laugh emerged from beside him and he looked to see her leaning over, clutching her sides with tears escaping the emerald of her eyes as she continued to be amused by Camille somehow managing to get Logan to loosen up and fist pump with her, the failure of doing it correctly evident. Her hair collided with his face as she straightened back up; followed by another fit of giggles when she realized what had happened.

The song reached the loudest chorus and they looked at each other before chorusing the one word that the song sang loudly, their faces close together as her hair flew towards his cheeks once more.

That's when it happened.

He took him less than a minute to understand what was happening, and he still doesn't understand how he had managed to react so quickly. Being in the very back of the car, he already knew there wasn't much to do to get Kendall to do what he wanted. The headlights of the other vehicle flooded in through every single window of the car, momentarily blinding all in the car. No other sound had been able to overpower the stereo except the loud screech of tires scratching the roach and the horn of the other vehicle calling out a warning.

In a flash, he reached up and unstrapped the helmet that had always been perched atop his head. Anyone who would've seen him would have asked what the heck he was doing, but he didn't care. His hands removed the protective gear from his head and reached out.

The overall terror that emitted from those green eyes when she looked at him gave him a purpose.

But the helmet slipped from his fingers last minute, not making it to her head in time. He had failed. He wasn't able to protect her like he had planned.

The impact was so sudden, so _painful_, and so quick. No one saw it coming. He hadn't even the time to pull her into his arms. Her saw her lips move, but nothing came out of them. Instead, he heard another scream. A different voice, not belonging to her, but still sending a terrified chill down his spine when he heard the shrill of terror.

"_Kendall!_"

He had never heard a scream so terrified. The shrill of Katie's voice as she begged for protection from her brother—his best friend—was so scared, he knew he would never be able to forget the sound. He knew that no thirteen year old girl in the entire world was ever to scream the way she did that night. In that one scream, her terror could be heard from anywhere in the world.

He didn't understand how he could've escaped the danger of being inside the car, considering he was nowhere near a window, but somehow he had managed to land on the street. He didn't know how far away he was from the car. How far away he was from his friends. From _her_.

But what he did know was that there was not much hope for any of them.

So he prayed some more.

And in the middle of all that pain and remembering and thinking and praying, tears pooled down his face.

He didn't mind the intensity of the burn as he sobbed quietly to himself on the street, wishing he had some way of helping any of them.

* * *

_**So yeah... you can press that beautiful review button over there. :) **_


	3. A Broken Leg

_So... I really hated how this chapter came out, mostly because it took me so long to write it and its no where near the first two, but it'll have to do for now. _

_I'm officially dedicating this entire story to TealMoose (AkA:the most amazing reader/reviewer in the entire universe), hopefully she hasnt impolded by this point (because she's too cool to explode :P) and I really hope she likes this chapter even though I dont. :) _

_I'm gonna go ahead and let you guys read now :) _

_Oh and PS... i just wanted to let you guys know that there IS AN OC in this story... _

_You'll know more about her in the next chapter. _

* * *

His body was exhausted, every bone holding him together longing for break, his muscles screaming for an end to this torture. A bead of sweat made its way down the side of his face, cold against his skin as it joined the many others at the collar of his jersey. His padding suddenly seemed too heavy and despite the cold that registered throughout the rink, it was suddenly too hot and damp in his helmet.

And yet he kept on.

His feet were sore in his skates as he zipped along, the joints in his arm cracking as he led the puck in front of him with the stick in his hands. He could hear the blades on his feet slicing against the ice under him as well as those behind him. Cold air nipped at his face as he gained speed and a smile came to his face as he kept along, doing the one thing that he loved so much.

His eyes drifted upwards, expecting to see the net close. His arm pulled back, ready to launch the puck and score.

But it wasn't there.

It was so far away from him, the ice spreading out further in front of him, and he wondered if his eyes were playing tricks on him. He skidded to a stop, the puck sliding along, disappearing after a while. He expected to be attacked by the opposing team and the hairs on the back of his neck rose when he realized he was alone.

The only sounds were his heavy breathing and his heart pounding.

The rink was empty.

He had sworn he heard the buzz of excitement of the crowd they watched him play. He thought he had heard a dozen pairs of blades hitting the ice besides his own. He _had_ heard the whistle as the puck was dropped.

Hadn't he?

His head whipped around in confusion. The lights flickered above him before giving out and he was left alone in the icy dark. He could only see a couple of inches in front of him, everything dimming into blackness. The hockey stick in his hand slipped from his fingers, hitting the ice without a sound. His eyes looked around for some sort of presence besides his own, and he grew panicked when he didn't. His breath was visible in the white puffs that escaped his lips, and in haste, he spit out his mouthpiece and threw off his gloves, his fingers icy and stiff as they removed the helmet from his head.

Something moved in the distance.

A sense of relief washed over him and he raised an eyebrow, running his fingers through the blonde of his hair. He could see shadows beyond him, and he narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, his skates drifting him forward a bit on the ice. "Hello?" he could barely hear his voice as the beat of his heart grew louder in his ears, and it seemed as if the sound was echoing around him, bouncing off the walls before striking him. A dry chuckle escaped him as he thought of his reckless friends. "Guys, are you there?" there was no answer and he rolled his eyes. "Okay, haha, very funny. You got me. Now do me a favor and turn the lights back on."

Nothing.

"Guys?" he skated forward deeper into the darkness, and squinted as two small lights came into view, resembling a pair of cynical yellow eyes. He suppressed a shiver and called out in a stern voice. "Guys. This isn't funny."

His heart beat grew louder and stronger, his breathing accelerated, and his hands shook. The temperature around him dropped drastically and he tried to swallow. The lights in front of him grew nearer, getting brighter the closer they came. He opened his mouth to scream…

But the lights had hit him already.

He shut his eyes to avoid being blinded as the lights struck him violently, sending him flying into the boards. He wanted to cry out in pain as whatever attacked him pushed against his chest, making it hard to breathe. The lack of head protection made him dizzy.

He heard too many things at once.

They all seemed to pour into his mind at once, overlapping and overwhelming him. Again he tried to call out, but he couldn't find his voice. He heard laughing, singing, music…

Tires screeching, a horn, loud and violent; metal against metal; glass shattering; yells and screams.

But one scream rang out over all of them, and the pain he was feeling grew to be a thousand times worse.

"_Kendall!"_

His howl of pain was the only thing that was heard over the quick speed of the heart monitor as he finally awoke, the fluorescent lights hanging above him blinding. His chest lifted and dropped rapidly with the breaths he took, and tears poured out of the corners of his eyes. He continued to roar, his lips forming all the names of the occupants of the car he had destroyed, apologizing profusely for the hurt he had caused. His voice increased in volume as the ache of his body grew, the throbbing of his head adding to the pounding of his chest. He felt hands against his chest, pushing him down as he struggled to escape the constriction he felt. Soft fingers against his cheek as a voice murmured for him to calm down.

He couldn't.

His strength was nowhere to be found. Self control was nothing to him at this point in time. He was desperate.

Desperate for information on the well being of his best friends.

He wanted to know what he had done to his baby sister, if she was okay. He wanted to look into her huge brown eyes and know everything was okay. He wanted to see her signature smirk and have her climb on top of him and slap him across the face to tell him to calm the hell down. He wanted to hear her voice.

Anything.

The noises were driving him insane.

Everywhere he went, all he could hear was the beeping of the monitors and EKGs and all the other weird machines he didn't know about. Behind him, the nurses called his name and told him to slow down before he tripped over the crutches that he swung on, but he didn't care. He needed to see them. All of them, before he checked himself into the mental ward of the hospital he was already in.

Images flooded his mind. Hundreds of them.

His thoughts were going too fast for him to comprehend, and he prayed that the horrid images that were playing in his mind were just scenes of some horrible nightmare he was having caused by watching way too many horror movies. The lights were too bright, the sounds too loud. He could hear the sound waves flooding from the radio vibrating the car; he could hear everyone inside singing along, laughing and grinning.

He could hear the loud horn yelling a warning before the screaming happened and he could no longer hear anything.

His arms stopped working, and he slammed the bottom of his crutches down in frustration, struggling to hold back the tears that floated around with the hazel of his eyes. It was hard to remember what had happened, the moment coming to him in small doses, each of them more intense than the first. It was hard to believe that a night that had started out so fun and innocent had turned into a nightmare like this one. The memories were so strong, hitting him harder and harder until the only way to rid himself of the images was to stop and take deep breaths.

A twinge of pain pulled in his chest as his sore body fell against the wall behind him and he squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw to compose himself. He needed to slow down. He was close, but he doubted Kendall was going anywhere… he hoped.

An anguished roar erupted from the room down the hall and suddenly all of his senses were on alert. He clumsily followed the many doctors and nurses that poured into the room,

He watched in complete and utter agony.

He stared as his best friend thrashed around on the bed, yelling and howling in the pain that James only wished to know he felt. He found it unfair that he was standing there, simply watching with no idea on what to do. How to react.

His fingers tightened around the crutches that held him up and his eyes glared at the cast wound tightly around his broken leg.

Because that was all he had received.

A broken leg.

While Kendall thrashed around in intense chest pain and a serious head wound, as Logan lay unconscious with an unmentionable amount of blood loss, as Carlos had been declared a flat line twice before finally becoming a bit more stable and faced the possibility of a coma, as Camille had a machine breathing for her...

All his friends stood at the brink of death and all he had received was a broken leg.

What kind of a cruel world did he live in?

His jaw began to hurt and he breathed through his teeth and tried to unclench his teeth, but tears threatened to spill and James Diamond was _not_ about to cry. The doctors and nurses pushed against Kendall and murmured comforting things to try to calm him down, but James knew that nothing was going to give his best friend peace of mind.

Not until he saw a certain little girl walk in and declare she was alright.

That's all it took for James Diamond to break.

He choked on a sob at the thought of little Katie, so young and innocent, being pinned down by two tons of metal for over an hour. The tears he hadn't wanted to shed began to cascade his smooth face, dripping off of his chin and collecting in a pile on the ground. His shoulders shook with his sobs as he threw his head into his hands, praying through his cries. He prayed to the God that had somehow found it in his heart to protect him to keep his hand over the young girl that was currently fighting for her life. The girl that the doctors knew wasn't going to make it. He prayed for a miracle.

"Make her wake up," were his exact prayers. "Wake her up and heal her. _Please_." He knew that Kendall would never be able to survive without her.

None of them could.

She didn't deserve to lose her life. She had so much waiting for her. She couldn't.

Kendall had finally quieted down, mainly because of the morphine being pumped into him once again. His head rested against the pillows once again and his eyes started closing. He continued to breathe hard and it worried James. He wished Logan was there so he could turn to him and ask what was wrong. He didn't trust these doctors, mostly because they didn't seem to have the ability to speak in a way that James would understand.

He wished he had paid more attention to that paramedic course he had taken in ninth grade.

"James," he looked down to see his designated nurse smiling up at him. Under other circumstances, he would've flashed his signature grin and winked at her, but right now all he wanted to do was demand how could she smile when he was so close to losing everyone he loved. "I think you should be getting back to your own room. You've been walking around and moving too much for your condition and you need some rest."

He didn't say anything, only looked away and stared through the window at his best friend.

She felt her hand on his arm and his jaw clenched once more. "James."

"I want to see them." His voice was thick with tears, loud in his ears. He realized it had been a while since he had heard himself speak. He found it his job to look after all of them.

Isabel—as he had gathered from her nametag—sighed. "I'm supposed to be getting you back to your room."

"Please." He pleaded with her, his eyes illustrating his desperate need with hazel fire. "I just need to see them. Then I'll do whatever you want."

* * *

_Yeah, that's it. _

_Reviews will be greatly appreciated, and if you review amazingly enough, I just might be suddenly inspired and come up with the next chapter sooner. _

_Let me remind you guys that this story is an impulsive one..._

_anyways... review :) _

_Please. _


	4. The Purple Ribbon

_Alright, so it took me FOREVER, but chapter four is finally here. _

_I can assure you it isnt much, but I thought it was time to introduce my OC :) as well as elaborate on everyone's state of being. _

_I just wanna thank TealMoose for being so freaking awesome and helping me out with ideas for this chapter and more to come :) You should thank her too, she's the reason Ive made it this far :D_

_So anyways, read on. And PLEASE review! I'm begging you! At least five reviews! Can we do that? :) _

* * *

If you think about it, there are many things in our lives that we take for granted.

While you enjoy your happiness, there's someone suffering for the loss of a loved one. While you whisper "I love you" to that one person that lights up your day, there might be a couple arguing and professing their hatred for each other. While you sing a soft melody, someone else might be wailing out in desperation, their cries admitting when they are unable to put into words.

He stared down at their motionless, bodies, one by one. With every scar his eyes fell upon, another part of his heart broke. With every beep that rang throughout the hospital rooms, another tear fell to the ground. As he stood there, witnessing the misery that his friends were being put through, there might be someone else marveling at the birth of a new life.

It just wasn't fair.

"James?" he felt a hand on his arm, and he spit a sob through his teeth as he ripped his arm out of their reach. His eyes were trained on Logan, who lay quietly in his respective bed, eyes shut tightly. His skin was almost transparent. For a moment, James could have been convinced that he was dead, but the soft rising and falling of his chest convinced him otherwise. There was an IV in his arm, but the tube was red instead of clear, and he swallowed back the urge to vomit when he saw the small bag of crimson liquid hanging above them. Isabel attempted to get his attention once again, and it was a surprise she didn't drop dead with the glare that he sent her way.

"Logan lost a lot of blood," the doctor had said after James had woken up and was conscious enough to ask about his friends. "We have him hooked up to a transfusion pump. So far, he's been responding well."

Something about that "so far" didn't sound right, but he didn't want to ask for details.

It was odd watching a person that was meant to be treating people in hospital beds lying in his own, the possibility of him even waking up soon unknown. Every time James heard these doctors speak, all he could do was look around helplessly, wishing his braniac of a best friend was there to translate.

xxx

"Kendall, keep your eyes on the road."

"I _have_ my eyes on the road, Logan. Loosen up, would you? Jeez."

xxx

He remembered that moment like it had happed ten seconds ago, and he couldn't erase it from his mind. Logan had always been an anxious person when he wasn't the one driving, and everyone knew that Kendall was prone to getting distracted easily.

But Kendall seemed to be paying perfect attention to where he was going, even as he beat the steering wheel and nudged Katie in the passenger seat along with the music that blared through the speakers.

His face burned, and he knew that he looked nowhere near good. For once he didn't care. There was nothing he could do about his swollen eyes, or oily skin, or dirty hair. He stretched his legs out in front of him and pulled a hand through his hair, more tears slipping from his eyes and sobs ripping through his chest as he threw his head back against the wall behind him. He refused to go back in his room, to give in to the pale walls, the beeping machines, the dripping IV. He was set on avoiding needles, no matter how much his leg killed him.

_He_ should have been in the passenger seat instead of Katie. Maybe if he had taken her place, she would be in better condition.

She was so tiny and frail.

"Will she survive?" He didn't know her very well, but Isabel was the only one he could talk to at the point in time. He couldn't say much, for she never responded with much. The only purpose she served for him was informing him on the well being of the ones he loved and found his job to protect.

Not that he could do much protecting in the current situation.

Isabel sighed. "James, maybe you should get some rest."

"Will she survive?"

"You can see the rest of your friends later, we just think that some sleep will—"

"_Will she survive?"_ he yelled, making her jump.

There was a pause, and with every second that ticked by the pounding of his heart got louder and more painful. Silence was never good. It meant that she was thinking.

Thinking of the best way to say bad news.

"We don't… we don't know." Her voice was barely above a whisper, and it took him a second to process what she had responded with.

He had wanted the truth. He knew that, and he knew that she knew that too.

But now he just wanted her to lie to him.

He wanted her to tell him that she would be okay. That Katie would wake up and ask her mother for a snow cone. That she would smirk at Kendall and they would have one of those secretive conversations that no one understood. That she would roll her eyes as Carlos did something stupid. That she would ask Logan for help on pre-algebra. Heck, James would even settle for one of those bony fists to punch him in the stomach like they always did when he talked too much.

But those were all lies.

Because no one knew if she was going to wake up.

Not even the doctors.

That didn't settle his stomach.

* * *

Carlos hadn't been wearing his helmet.

He could not say he wasn't shocked when he heard that.

Was there ever a second that the hyperactive Latino wasn't wearing the hockey helmet that had to be forcefully removed from his head at certain times? Ever since James could remember, Carlos wore the helmet. And if he couldn't wear it, he would still be holding it in his hand, or at least somewhere remotely close to him.

They had informed him that the helmet was nowhere near Carlos when he was found.

He hadn't expected his best friend to get any more stupid.

The only time where the useless thing could have actually protected him, he decides to simply toss it out the window and not wear it. Because that's gonna work.

Now he faces a concussion so severe he's comatose.

The noise that escaped James was a peculiar combination of a dry laugh and a sob. His eyes drifted to the roof, and he wanted to laugh as he asked God what he was thinking when he created such an insane human being. The only thing that was heard in the small hospital room was the shaking breaths he took and the beep of Carlos' heart monitor.

James could only say one thing to his unconscious friend.

"You should've kept your helmet on."

He wished that there would be some kind of response, because the lack of having someone to talk to and the absence of someone to cry with was slowly starting to drive him to the point of madness. He stared hard at Carlos' sleeping form, looking for some sign that he could hear him. The movement of a finger, the twitch of the lips, a moan, anything would have eased his mind.

Of course, it was for this reason that Carlos did none of them.

He didn't know how he had been able to notice it, but there seemed to be something different about Carlos' hands. That's when he realized that the ribbon that was usually tied perfectly around his wrist was now hanging lazily into his palm, begging to be tied once again. Loose threads stuck out from the sides, and the once deep purple was now washed away to dull lavender.

Without thinking, he grabbed the ribbon and stood up, leaning on his crutch. He glanced at his best friend one last time before looking back at Isabel.

"Next."

* * *

The girls had been put in a room together, almost as if the nurses knew the bond that these two friends had, and the need they had to be together, even as they lie unconscious beside one another.

Camille didn't have the strength to breathe for herself; it was obvious in the way that the respirator was taped to her lips. The quirky atmosphere that she had always owned was gone, leaving behind a pale face, contrasting with her dark hair. She lacked the smirk she loved to wear and that arch in her brow that made her look more devious than she already did.

Right now, she looked…

Weak.

Because that's exactly what she was.

He rubbed his face, not wanting to shed anymore tears. But he couldn't help it. He had grown attached to the overdramatic method actress, taking the love that Logan felt for her and morphing it into a sort of brotherly relationship. Seeing her in such a state was just as heartbreaking as seeing his buds and he wished she would wake up and help him get through this, like she had done before.

He pressed a tender kiss to her head, willing her to get better soon so that Logan could have peace of mind, even if he was just as unconscious as she was.

In the bed beside Camille's another girl slept, breathing deeply and quietly by herself, in comparison to her best friend hooked up to the machine. Her arms were wrapped in gauze, the crimson liquid slightly visible as it began to seep through little by little. He knew that she had to have more wrapped around her torso as well. They had told him that she had been pinned under sharp metal for over an hour, and he didn't want to begin to imagine the pain she had went through.

A small white tape covered the deep cut above her eyebrow, and despite all the wounds she had received, to him it seemed like that one was the one that broke his heart the most.

He set his crutches on the wall between the beds and sat on a chair. His fingers held Carlos' ribbon, and a small smile pulled at his lips when he caught a speck of purple.

Right there on her finger, a similar purple ribbon was wrapped.

It seemed so corny and kid-ish, sharing a ribbon to illustrate the bond they had. James had never seen them officially give it to one another, but he seemed to understand the meaning behind it.

It didn't seem like his place to be, sitting by her bedside and watching as she breathed deeply and steadily, every breath hopefully leading to one where she would open her eyes. He wasn't the one that was supposed to be here, speaking quietly to her and willing for her to wake up, clutching the other half of her ribbon in his fist.

He could imagine Carlos just sitting in the same chair James sat in, staring at her, waiting.

Oh, the wonders of love.

"Hey, Scarlett," he was glad that Isabel had decided to leave him alone, that way she wouldn't be wondering what was going through his mind as he whispered to his best friend's girl. Then he realized he didn't care. He felt it was his job to watch over her, as if Carlos was willing him to take care of her while he was away. He refused to look at her pale face, or the dark curls that were flooded all around her. Being friends with Camille for so long, all of the members of Big Time Rush had seen this dynamic duo run around and laugh and smirk and practice their lines in the middle of the Palm Woods lobby.

Now both of the girls were much to quiet and lifeless, and it scared him.

Scarlett didn't respond, and he didn't understand why he was expecting her to. In the few months that he had known her, he found it was very easy to go to her for advice. As goofy as she could be, she sure knew how to help everyone out, and he admired her for that. Now all he wanted to ask of her was to wake up so that he had someone to talk to.

He was going insane, and he knew it.

* * *

_Again, REVIEW!_


	5. No Longer Alone

_I know that it's been a while, but I'm pulling through, trying to gather some more ideas on this... To be honest, it's the first I've written in a while... and I know its not much... but I just felt like I owed you guys an update. It's not really that good either... and its short.. but please read :)

* * *

_

Beep

.

The lights of the city flew by them, shining against their faces, gleaming in their eyes and only interrupted when they were shadowed by the darkness of the late night.

_Beep… Beep. _

"Kendall, keep your eyes on the road."

"I _have_ my eyes on the road, Logan. Loosen up, will you? Jeez."

In her peripheral vision, she saw Logan roll his eyes, wringing his hands nervously, and she knew that he was anxious about letting Kendall drive as he was the one who usually had control of the steering wheel. She saw Camille laugh and nudge him playfully in the ribs, teasing him for being such a worry wart and to have fun for once.

_Beep._

An odd sound that didn't belong in the array of singing voice rang out and they all laughed as Logan turned a dark shade of red.

_Beep_.

She looked up and met Carlos' large brown eyes, and she couldn't help the smile that took over her lips. His voice lingered in her ear, and she laughed softly as his finger traced the planes of her palm. He continued to stare at her, and she bit her lip, singing along with everyone else, not used to all the attention he was giving her.

_Beep, Beep. Beep._

She had never realized how much she had liked the song until she was yelling it out with everyone else, her giggles mixing in with the others as she decided to join James in head banging for a bit, stopping when she realized how much it strained her neck. As the climax of the song came forth, she found it amazing how Carlos seemed to look at her at the same time she looked at him, and they chorused that simple word, and a blush crept to her cheeks as she prepare herself for a kiss.

_Beep. _

He looked like an angel. An adorable, puppy eyed, helmet wearing angel as he stared at her with his gleaming smile, light pouring in from behind him.

_Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep_.

Katie's voice clawed at her eardrums, calling out for her brother, and she gasped sharply as the lights behind Carlos shone not from the heavens, but from headlights of another car. She didn't have time to do anything, or say anything. She knew that as violently as Kendall would decide to swerve, the hit was inevitable, and she started to pray to God and his angels, asking for protection. Everything ceased, and she shut her eyes tightly, knowing the feeling the impact was enough, she didn't need to see it.

_Beep_.

He didn't understand. He couldn't.

James Diamond didn't really have the capacity to understand why he was the one chosen to be saved from the misery that he forced to witness his friends go through. He guessed that was his misery in itself. He sat there and poured his heart out to this unconscious girl, hoping she could hear him.

She could.

The beeps began to accelerate a bit, and his hopes shot up as her fingers twitched and her head moved a fraction of an inch, her eyelids fluttering until a sharp gasp escaped her and she was awake.

He gasped, jumping up. "Holy crap, you're awake!"

She stared at him curiously, her emerald eyes tired and sad. "James? Where's…" her eyes drifted down to the tattered ribbon at hanging from his fingers and she gasped, her eyes flooding with tears.

James exclaimed, "Oh!" and jumped forward, shaking his head. "No, no, Scar, Carlos is fine!"

She seemed to relax a bit, though the tears didn't fade. "What's wrong with him? Where's everyone else?" she inhaled. "Katie…."

He frowned, sitting down and taking a deep breath before telling her everything that he had learned once he had opened his own eyes. A warm feeling rose in his chest, and he couldn't help but smile a bit in relief to himself.

He was no longer alone.

* * *

_Please review and tell me what you think :) _


	6. Temporary Happiness

_Alright, I know that its been FOREVER! Way too long. and to be honest, i was thinking of quitting on this, if not for my mind becoming complete engulfed with different ways to go with this story. But I'm back :) and I got this for you! Hopefully you guys like... if I still have my readers out there... _

_Let's see if I can get the next chapter up soon, depending on the feedback... _

_Do I dare challenge you guys to give me 10 reviews? _

_I think so :) _

_So tell your friends, please!_

* * *

It was amazing how many memories could flood into a girl's mind over time.

She didn't understand how one simple night could have changed everything. Nothing could be the same for any of them, and it scared her. She was afraid to close her eyes, scared of what she would be forced to remember. And every second she spent in that godforsaken bed seemed to be more torturing than the next.

She wanted to see him again. To look into his chocolate eyes and share that gleaming smile. She needed to hear his voice, not just in a stupid music recording, but out loud, whispering her name and telling her everything would be okay. She needed to feel his fingers curled around hers, to bask in his warmth as he held her to his chest. She needed him to take her to their reserved spot at the park and tell her about his times in Minnesota, flailing his arms around like the madman he was and getting too deep into his pointless stories.

But she didn't get any of that. When had she been known to get something she wanted? Not often.

He simply lay there, motionless in his bed, eyes shut tightly and hiding their dark color, lips closed with no sign of moving anytime soon. His skin was cold, and no matter how many times she squeezed his hand, hoping for a response, he never squeezed back.

It didn't take long for her body to run out of tears for her to shed.

The water was too hot as it pounded against her back, her wounds stinging painfully as the scorching heat met the raw flesh. She didn't care. Actually, she invited the pain. It helped her think of something else other than the possibilities her friends faced of dying. Her throat was dry, her jaw stiff, and she now realized that she barely ever opened her mouth if not to force her unappetizing food down her throat or to pretend to hurt less than she really was for James. She could see the hint of hope in his hazel eyes, and she appreciated it. He was all she had at this point, for the time being, and she was grateful. She could only imagine the emotional strife he could have endured those long hours that he was forced to face everything alone.

That was, until she had woken up to join his misery.

She swallowed the upcoming lump in her throat and let out a heavy sigh, gathering her wet curls in her hands and throwing her large clump of hair over one shoulder, inviting the hot water of the shower to slide over her battered body. She willed it to relax her muscles, inhaling the steam it emitted and exhaling in discontent when it didn't warm the cold, empty feeling inside her. She could barely remember how it felt to be happy, and she refused to believe that the last moment she had was trapped under all the weight of the car, wishing for death to come.

She traced the deep slashes across her stomach with her fingertips, wondering if she would have the scars for the rest of her life, and how ugly they would be. There was no way Carlos would want her with these disgusting scars, and for a minute she was relieved that he couldn't see her. He wouldn't like what he saw. He wouldn't appreciate the fact that his "dotted beauty" was now thin, pale and battered.

The water began to run cold, and she shuddered before shutting the water off and yanking the towel from its rack in front of her. Slowly, she willed her sore arms to wrap the warm cloth around her naked body as the steam began to subside and the air conditioning came back. She pushed aside the plastic curtain and faced the small, confining hospital bathroom, reaching the mirror in no more than two and a half wide, wobbly, painful steps. It was quiet as she stared at that odd stranger in the mirror, gripping the support of the metal bar bolted into the wall beside her to lean in and get a closer look. Dark circles seemed imbedded into her head around her eyes, and she could see the pain burning in the forest green of her irises. She struggled to see the light freckles dotted over her nose and cheeks, and once again wondered what Carlos would call her if he saw her now.

She struggled to keep out the images that came when she thought of him. Those few seconds when she thought everything was perfect, ruined by the headlights of the other car. Her perfect moment broken into millions of pieces of glittering glass…

With no hopes of coming together anytime soon.

* * *

"How long has he been out?"

"Well," James scratched the back of his head as he thought. "He did wake up once, last week, but they knocked him out again."

Scarlet frowned. "Why'd they do that?"

"His body didn't react the way yours did…"

Both teenagers sighed and turned back to their blonde friend breathing evenly on the bed, his face scrunched up in anything but peace. Mrs. Knight sat beside her eldest, her hand holding tightly onto his, as if she was the one holding on by a thread and not Kendall. Her eyes were red and puffy, her face deprived of sleep, as she had been glued to the same spot for about two days now. Scarlet had attempted to pull her away from the unconscious boy, but nothing could stir her.

Never would anyone be able to understand the pain and suffering this mother had gone through as she sat beside her son, praying to the Lord above that he would be alright. Her husband's loss so long ago had taken its toll on her, and she didn't even want to begin to imagine losing both of her children in the same accident. The doctors had taken her baby girl in for countless surgeries, and they still weren't sure if the fragile thirteen-year-old would make it.

With another soft sob, the mother that had once proven to be so strong and prone to handle any obstacle thrown her way broke and buried her face into her son's immobile shoulder, willing him to stir and rest his hand on her head like he always did, whispering that it would be okay, just like she taught him it would. When he didn't move, she cried that much harder, knowing that she wouldn't be able to go on if she lost her children. She loved them way too much.

Silent tears streamed down Scarlet's cheeks as she watched Mrs. Knight breakdown beside Kendall. In the few months that she had known the boys, she knew how close Kendall and his mother's relationship was, and she had once admitted to herself that she was jealous of Kendall's family, for she was never given a loving family as Kendall had been given. It didn't seem fair that Kendall now faced the possibility of having his beautiful family fall apart completely.

James sighed and secured an arm around her shoulders, not being able to understand what she might have been going through, but knowing that she needed _someone_.

From what Carlos had told his friends about this unique girl he had fallen for, James knew that Scarlet didn't exactly come from a close family like the boys had. Carlos had spilled that her mother had died of breast cancer when Scarlet was six, and her father was so affected by it he practically forgot that he had a kid. As soon as she turned eighteen, she said goodbye to her father and birthplace of New York and boarded a plane to L.A. with hopes of hitting it in the acting business.

Next thing she knew, she was wrapped up in the crazy lives of Big Time Rush, the only "family" she really considered, besides Camille, who had taken her in once discovering she didn't even have a place to stay.

Now, James looked down at her and offered a slight smile. "Ready?"

After a moment of silence, Scarlet took a deep breath and nodded, pulling a shaking hand through her thick, messy dark hair.

* * *

The room was too bright, too loud, too cold…

And it smelled _way_ too strong.

With every breath he took, all he could smell was alcohol, and medicine, and bad hospital food, and other unnamed smells that you found in a hospital room. The noises coming from that annoying heart monitor were driving him insane, making his head hurt more than it already did, and after a minute of scrunching his nose, he reached his hand up to whatever it was that these stupid doctors had shoved up his nose.

But the sight of that familiar freckled face, green eyes large and worried as she walked into his hospital room stopped all of his movements.

The overwhelming sense of relief that rushed through her body was almost too much to handle as she walked into Carlos' hospital room, James right on her heels. She could see the discomfort in his tan face, the confusion in his chocolate eyes, but she didn't care.

He was awake.

Carlos was awake.

Suddenly she forgot all her pain. She forgot the bandages that scratched at her skin with every movement she made. She forgot the stinging pain that her wounds caused her as she stressed her body out too much. She forgot the soreness of her muscles. She forgot the prickling of her eyes. She forgot everything around her, including the nurses telling her to be careful of her pace or else she might start bleeding again.

She didn't care.

All she cared about was crossing those few steps it took to reach his bed and take him into her arms.

Without warning, she darted off, diving towards the small bed where he lay. Her sad, pale face brightened up in less than a second, and a large, relieved smile overwhelmed her features. James and Isabel watched with wide, amazed eyes as this broken girl sprinted across the room in less than five second and dived onto the bed, throwing her arms around the now-conscious Latino's neck. Carlos, also shocked at the rate that she had made her way over to him, had trouble concealing his own grin as he slowly came to wrap his arms around her waist, digging his face into her neck and inhaling the familiar scent of vanilla.

They looked at each other for a moment, but before Carlos could get his mouth open to say something, he found himself being caught up in a vicious, passionate kiss. Her hands held his face securely in place as her lips explained everything she had felt while she was alone without him in what had been a dark and unfamiliar world.

Now, with each other them in each other's arms, they dared to hope that things would be alright. She was indulging herself in her few moments of happiness and he was prolonging the moments in which he would begin to ask his questions.

For now, if only for a little bit, they had each other.

They would soon discover that their happiness would be short-lived.

* * *

_Reviews are love :) _


	7. Nightmare

The world stopped around them.

Nothing could ever be the same, just as Scarlet knew it would be. Time froze, and nothing seemed to register in anyone's mind for a long while. Living stopped, breaths halted, hearts shattered, and what had once been a beautiful, happy family was broken. They all stood in that hospital without a reason to smile, staring blindly as Jenifer Knight threw herself into the Doctor's arms, her wails and sobs tearing through every one of their hearts like a knife. No amount of apologies and condolences could make anything better, and it angered them. They could feel it, the cracks in their friendship, the tumbling of this large family that didn't end with blood. They all blamed each other, when, really, the only one at fault was fate.

They had all heard that life wasn't fair, but was it really supposed to be this cruel?

Thirteen years old.

When they were thirteen, they were horse playing, reaching for their dreams, laughing and running around, hoping for their futures. They had so many dreams, so many expectations. And here they were, living out those all those dreams, and sharing their expectations.

Katie Knight would never get a chance for that.

He blamed himself for that.

* * *

They all woke up, eventually, and one at a time. They barely spoke to one another, each being kept in their separate room for separate examinations. It was hard for any of them to focus on anything, really, and the Doctors were considering recommending therapy for the suffering kids.

They still didn't speak when they were discharged weeks later, each carrying orders to treat their conditions. Sunny California wasn't as exciting as it used to be, and suddenly it didn't offer the chance at happiness anymore. The Palm Woods might as well have been Mars to them, and it didn't take long for life to force its way back into routine, as new as they might have been.

Big Time Rush was separated for the first time in two years, leaving the two remaining members of the Knight family to mourn without anyone else around. The other boys were scattered among other hotels, being cared for by their families that had flown in from Minnesota. Having no family, Scarlet was forced to push herself along alone, requesting her own room from Bitters with the money she had salvaged with the few jobs she managed to get. She called in every once in a while to check up on Camille, whose lungs had suffered greatly, causing the actress to have more trouble breathing in the average person. Luckily, her father was there to take care of her.

Katie's funeral was long and painful. It was also the first time in a long while that they all seemed to meet up again. Kendall, James, Carlos and Logan literally crashed into each other, and after about ten minutes of staring and silence, they all broke down together, just like the hockey team they were. They sat together during the service, each suffering in their own ways, but none shed any tears. Kendall was completely silent as he held his crying mother in his arms, stroking her hair softly as he stared at his baby sister's casket, refusing to look at her small and motionless body. He couldn't hear anything that was being said, he couldn't see the large pool of people that had attended the service to pay their respects. All he saw was those blinding lights that had caused him so much harm, the lights that had left him wanting to die.

The lights that had taken his sister away from him.

All he could hear was her voice, loud in his ear, screaming for protection, screaming for him to get the monsters in her closet, screaming for him to save her from all the bad things that would tear her down one way or another. There was a constant ringing in his ear that just wouldn't go away no matter what he did to himself.

"_Kendall_!_"_

It was all he could think about. She had asked for protection, and he had failed to protect. The steering wheel of the car that had killed Katie was in his hands at time of impact; she was seated beside _him_ when she died. And yet he had failed to save her.

In his eyes, he killed her.

* * *

It was too final, throwing that flower into her grave. The sun was shining much to brightly, the sky was too clear, the clouds too perfect. It pissed him off. This was the worst day of his life, and suddenly Mother Nature decides to have a perfect summer's day? What the hell. Katie should be back at the Palm Woods right now, pulling some ridiculous marketing stunt right under Bitters' nose, cheating the housekeeping staff at poker, charging California ego-maniacs to a vip area at a public pool. She should be basking in the sun, and laughing at the warmth it gave her. She should be rolling her eyes at him, teasing him, jumping on his back. But instead she lies six feet under in a casket too small, her big puppy eyes never to see sunlight again.

* * *

He can't control himself anymore. He's tired of pretending, of having his game face on for his mom, of going on like everything is fine when it's far from it. He's tired, and he's angry, and he'd give anything to have her back.

His hockey championship trophies hit the walls first, shattering into a million pieces around him. The wall cracks as his fists collide with it over and over and over again, picture frames joining ripped pages and shattered glass on the floor. His posters are ripped off his walls, his guitar smashed, his hockey sticks ruined, and his mirror lies in shards for he can't stand looking at himself in the reflection any longer. His voice is screwed to hell from all his yelling and screaming and sobbing. His eyes are red, his head is pounding, and his sweatshirt is soaked with sweat and blood and tears. His mother runs in shouting panicked words, His mother runs in shouting panicked words, grabbing his shoulder, but he jerks himself away and continues on his rampage.

Then, his chest starts to hurt, the pain unbearable, paralyzing him. He realizes he's abused of his broken body, and crashes onto his bed with heaving breaths. His mother rushes to get some water in his system, whispering calming words and telling him to take deep, slow breaths. The pain takes forever to ease away, and he wills it to stay. He wants it to become more pronounced and to take over his entire body. He wills the lights to come back; he begs the lights to take him instead of his sister. He begs God to wake him up from this horrible nightmare. He's sorry for the sins he's committed, and he's learned his lesson. He just wants his sister back and everything to go back to normal.

But it doesn't.

And he knows this isn't a nightmare, and God's will has been done and can't be undone.

So he just lays there, letting the pain take over, closing his eyes, clenching his jaw.

And hating himself for what he's done.

* * *

_I know that it's been WAY too long, but i honestly thought I had lost all inspiration for writing this. But, once again, the heat of the moment seems to work its magic and I come up with this. I know its short, and I'm sorry, you guys deserve a much, much longer chapter. And I'm trying my best. _

_So please, review. Please. I cannot stress how much I need these reviews. Tell me what you think, what you liked, what you hated, what you'd like to see. ANything. _

_I will try to update soon :)_

_-Nessa_

_PS: PLEASE REVIEW!_


	8. Blackbird

_Alright, so I'm not too content with this chapter.. because it took me so long to come up with it and putting what I saw in my head was difficult to translate into words. This was probably the hardest chapter for me to write, maybe because I wanted to focus more on Kendall AND Scarlet&Carlos. In the end, I chose Kendall. :D But, I wanna focus a little more on Carlos in the next chapter :P So hopefully more people review! Please ;) _

* * *

They sat in complete silence in the living room of 2J, simply staring at each other. Kendall sat in the middle, green eyes distant, his mind empty. He didn't know what to think anymore, didn't know what to do.

He was tired, so tired.

Getting angry didn't do anything for him, didn't make him feel better. Locking himself in his room didn't help either, he needed fresh air, cold air. But the ice rink barely did anything for him either. He took out his frustration on the ice, but the memories were unbearable. Not being able to breathe, the darkness surrounding him, the goal never being close enough, the _lights_.

His mother suggested a shrink, which triggered another tantrum that he couldn't have regretted more. His mother spent two hours crying silently to herself, picking up the plates her son as scattered among the kitchen, adjusting the couch to its original position, sweeping up the broken glass of the picture frames he had tossed about. All while he had simply sat there, in the corner of the room, curled up as he cried and panted, trying to get his head straight. He was beginning to get out of hand, everyone knew that. Kendall tended to get semi-violent when under too much traumatic stress, that had been proven when his father had slipped away.

But he did _not_, under any circumstances, need a therapist. He wasn't about to pour his heart out to a stranger who was getting paid just to tell him his sister's death affected him. He knew that already, and if he was trying to avoid thinking about it, why the hell would he want to talk about it?

Instead, his friends were called in. This was supposed to be some sort of intervention for all of them, because Katie was a sister to all of them. They were advised to take turns in admitting what they felt, respond to one another's thoughts, and cope together. It was supposed to be easy because they were so close, because they were a team and everything they did was together.

But they simply sat in complete and utter silence, each looking their own way. Somehow, the quiet was better than talking, because each knew what the others were thinking. No one had to say anything. Somehow, when it came down to it, they all blamed themselves. Logan could have driven instead of allowing Kendall to drive, James could have sat in the passenger seat to replace Katie, Carlos could have picked a different song to listen to, one that wasn't so loud….

Kendall should've kept his eyes on the road.

There were a hundred different scenarios going on in the boys' heads, all ending happily: with Katie alive. But no matter how much they changed the event in their minds, the girl still remained dead, and she wasn't going to come back.

"_Kendall_."

"_Dad?"_

"_Son, I need you to do me a favor, okay?" _

"_Anything dad, you know that." _

Finally, the blonde spoke, his voice much too loud in as it was carried through the apartment.

"All I can think about is my dad."

"_Come here, son."_

"He called me over to him," he chuckles. "He was wearing his old high school jersey. That's how much weight he had lost. The cancer was eating him alive."

"_Kendall, I need you to take care of your momma, alright? I need you to take care of her, and love her, and protect her, and make her smile every day, alright?"_

"_Yeah, Dad, of course." _

"_And I need you to take care of Katie, okay? She's not gonna understand much, so I need you to help her, and take care of her with everything you have. I need you to teach her how to skate, and shoot, and beat up her first jerk boyfriend." _

"_Oh please, she's not getting a boyfriend as long as I'm alive_."

"_And I need you to sing to her, because your mom can barely carry a tune." _

"_Yes, sir."_

"_You promise me, Kendall?_"

He could almost see the little kid with spiky hair sitting on his dad's hospital bed, patting the old man's bald head. The cancer had aged him beyond his years, abused him, killed him. But Papa Knight had waited until his son promised him something before passing, a promise that a thirteen year old Kendall was intent on keeping forever.

A promise that he broke.

"He trusted me," Kendall's voice was just above a whisper, the lump in his throat wouldn't go away. "He trusted me to take care of them… To do anything in my power to keep them—her—safe." He looked down and buried his face in his knees, tears leaking from his eyes. "But I couldn't keep the promise."

He had failed. His father only had one thing to ask of him, and he couldn't do it. He had left the world peacefully, trusting that his son would do what he asked, that his wife and daughter would be alright, safe. Now, five years later, Jenifer Knight spent her nights in her bed sobbing, her only companion being her migraines and box of tissues while her daughter lies in a casket, the result of her son being reckless and not paying attention while driving on a late night.

No one said anything as Kendall broke down, they knew he didn't want anyone to say anything. So they simply surrounded him in a small circle, put their palms on his head, bowed their heads, and prayed.

...

"_But I'm not a singer." _

"_You sing all the time! In the car, at the table, you sing to me when you can't sleep at night._"

...

He's sitting in Gustavo's studio once again, a blank page in front of him and a useless guitar on his lap. It was Kelly's idea to get him to write a song, a tribute to the girl who convinced him to do this in the first place. Griffin wanted a new single, since he was a heartless jerk who didn't know when "too soon" was. He was "very sorry for the loss, but life goes on, and money has to be made".

Which leads Big Time Rush here, trying to come up with lyrics to a new song. Not even Gustavo had anything, considering Katie was the one who got him through writer's block.

What were they supposed to write? Katie was so much more than a song, unable to be limited to a simple guitar tune or piano melody. The harmony of four voices wasn't enough to pay her back for the impact she had on everyone's life. Kendall didn't even know how to begin to describe his baby sister.

The fat man at the piano sighed. "For the first time, I don't even have one single note."

"We can't do this." James shook his head, throwing down his pencil, running a hand through his hair. Logan mimicked him, while Carlos sat anxiously in his chair, trying to pay attention even as his mind drifted to his worries of his Scarlet, who had moved out of the Palm Woods after the funeral and was unheard of since then.

"Well," Kelly spoke up, trying to be optimistic, even though it never really helped. "What… what was her favorite song?"

It was silent as Kendall plucked at his guitar, the tune easily recognizable, and for the first time in weeks, they all smiled.

...

"Kendall?" her voice was small, hidden in the dark of her room as he passed by. It was much too late for her to be awake. She had school tomorrow, and Mom would be pissed to see that she was still awake. Heck, he wasn't supposed to be awake either, but the hockey game couldn't be missed, she would understand that.

With a sigh, Kendall slipped into his baby sister's room, trying to see through the dark. "Katie? What are you doing up?" he was able to make out the form of her bed, and he sat down silently.

"I can't sleep," the eight year old whispered, big chocolate eyes shining even in the dark.

Kendall sighed. It started happening after their dad passed, that she wouldn't be able to get her to fall asleep. Their mom tried to help, making her hot chocolate and raising or lowering the air conditioner, depending on the time of year. But Kendall knew that it had nothing to do with being hot or cold, or thirsty, or hungry. Katie just missed her dad, the same way he did.

"There something I can do for you?" he tried, not knowing what to do. "Water? Hot chocolate? Maybe—"

"Can you sing to me?"

That caught the young teenager off guard. "Huh?"

Katie sighed exasperatedly, sitting up and crossing her arms. "Can you sing the blackbird song, Kendall?"

Kendall simply stared at his little sister for while, wrapping his head around her question. Their dad had been a total Beatles nerd, his love for the old band blossoming the day he was taken to a concert when he was simply eight years old. Throughout his childhood, Kendall had fallen asleep to his father humming 'All You Need is Love' or 'Hey Jude'. His father had another song reserved for Katie only, the song he only sang to her when she would wake up crying because of a nightmare or claimed to be afraid of the monster in her closet. And on those nights, Kendall would listen on the other side of the wall in his own room as his father sang away to his little princess, voice low, rough, and yet completely calm and peaceful.

"You sure, Kate? I mean—"

"Please, Kendall?" the little girl gripped her brother's arm tightly. The 'Blackbird' song had become her favorite song in existence, no amount of new genres and pop songs being able to change her mind. Their father was big on two things, music and hockey, two things that Kendall seemed to know well. So with a sigh, he cleared his throat, told his sister to lay back down, and sang to her.

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night_

_Take these broken wings and learn to fly_

_All your life_

_You were only waiting for this moment to arrive_

Their voices merged together softly, Kendall's standing out among them, pouring out his heart in the way words could never describe. He missed her, he needed her. He wanted to sing to her again, to see her content smile as she closed her eyes and finally fell asleep.

Kelly beamed and shared a look with Gustavo. "What if we do a cover instead of writing a new song?"

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night_

_Take these sunken eyes and learn to see_

_All your life_

_You were only waiting for this moment to be free_

* * *

_Tell me what you think!_


	9. Voicemail

_Okay, so i know that it's been... forever! and I hope that i havent lost too many of you... this has been sitting in my computer for months and I just completely forgot about it... but here it is, in time for the new year :P _

Please review!

* * *

The first voicemail is casual, the result of calling about ten times and not getting an answer. Camille's voice barely registers in her mind as she listens to it in the lonesome dark of her bedroom, her eyes drooping in the haze of exhaustion.

_Hey, Scar. I'm just calling to check in on you, make sure you're doing okay. Where are you, anyway? Haven't heard from you in a while, and it's starting to worry me. My dad still wants to know why you moved out in the first place. I mean, you loved the Palm Woods. Some of your stuff is still piled up in the corner of your room. We miss you, want you to come back. Why don't you start by calling me, yeah? _

The second one starts the same way, only this time she can hear the improvement of her best friend's breathing patterns. She's getting better. For that, she's relieved.

_Scarlet, come on, it's been three days. None of us have heard from you. Last time we saw you was at the funeral. You couldn't have gone far. I've called countless times. Are you even eating?_ _Call me. _

It's voicemail, after voicemail, after voicemail. All the same: Camille trying to get a hold of her, wondering what she's been doing. She thinks of calling back, but she somehow always changes her mind. Her wounds are closed, the stitches dissolved and removed, and yet, she still finds herself being yanked from her restless sleep in the middle of the night, her insides burning, her dreams plagued with the bright light and shattering glass and sharp metal. She can still feel the blood sliding down her arms, even though her skin is clean.

She cries at night, when she manages to stumble into the only apartment she was able to find with the money she had saved up from past jobs. She cries for the mother she lost to cancer, for the father that forgot about her, for the brother she lost to war, for every failure she's had since she arrived to this city. She cries for the promise of hope when Carlos kissed her for the first time, because somehow that promise has been shattered. She rolls around in a bed full of tears every night, and is barely able to force herself to leave it in the morning in search of work. She sobs for Katie Knight, wailing her apologies to the deceased girl. All she can see is the glint of metal behind her eyes, the pool of blood around her, Katie's small body laying only yards away from hers. It should have been easy for her to simply reach out, to help her, lift that car off of her. But instead she let her own pain overtake her, and she left the poor girl to die.

_No_, she answers Camille's question mentally, she hasn't eaten—unless you call water and a couple of crackers every other day eating. She doesn't have much food in her fridge, and she can't really afford much more. She can't seem to get a job, no matter how many parts she auditions for, how many demos she hands out, no one wants to hire her, and her savings is starting to dwindle. Camille wonders why she won't come back, why she won't answer anyone's calls, and why she doesn't want to be found, but she can't seem to find the answers to those questions. All she knows is that she can't go back. She needs to breakaway, escape the pain. She was tired of pain and loss constantly following her around. This time she brought upon her bad luck to people she loved. The only way out of that was staying alone, pulling her own weight, taking care of herself.

But how was she supposed to do that if she couldn't even get a simple job?

When her savings runs out, she takes her guitar out into the streets and hopes that people will sympathize and give her a couple of dollars and coins. She's already behind on rent. But the generosity of the people of Los Angeles is small, and it doesn't cut it.

She's alone and confused and helpless, and it pains her to think that she's the only one struggling. Camille was able to get a role in a sci-fi TV series, and word out was that Big Time Rush was to release a new single. Seems like Scarlet is the only "NIGHT OF FUN GONE WRONG" survivor who wasn't moving on with her life.

Seems like people are starting to find out too.

The rusty lock of the front door to her apartment puts up a fight when she slides the jagged key in, and after a long day of rejection and disappointment, it's the last thing Scarlet needs. With a heavy sigh, she looks up into the heavens and asks God why everything unfortunate happens to her. She shakes the rotting wood and gives it equal struggle, growing more frustrated by the second. It had to open, it always did.

Her fingers are dented and red when the key decides to give out and snaps in half, leaving Scarlet with the head with the rest stays jammed in the hole. With small hope, she tries the door.

Locked. _Great. _

She takes her cell phone out of her pocket, ready to contact a locksmith so she can throw herself on her bed, swallow a couple of painkillers, and sleep.

That's when her eyes catch the red letters.

She admits, there were nights when she stayed up and thanked the sky for allowing her to stay despite the several months of rent she owed, but seeing the eviction notice taped to her front door was something else entirely. It would have been uplifting to know she had a day to collect her stuff, but considering she couldn't even enter the apartment, every ounce of hope she could have gathered diminished, just like that.

An odd, far-away sound escapes her as she slides down the wall. What is she supposed to do now? She didn't have money for a hotel room, she didn't have car to sleep in, and the streets were too dangerous.

Her cell phone beeps. Scarlet groans. Another message.

She picks it up just for a distraction to steer her away from her current situation, and immediately regrets it.

_Scarlet, this is enough. I need to hear from you, it's driving me crazy. You're out there somewhere, and I'm gonna find you. You can't just drop off the face of the earth like that. Call me._

It's not Camille's voice floating out of her phone. It's not James, or Logan calling to ask if she needs anything. It's not her agent telling her to prep from "just one more audition, I'm sure you'll get this one". There's a sliver of hope for Kendall, who can't seem to forgive himself when she was at fault.

No, she's been ignoring those voices for days. And every voicemail they leave makes her miss them more. But there's one voice that she hadn't heard since Katie Knight's funeral, belonging to the one person that understood her enough to not call, to give her space. Carlos' voice does something to her, opens her eyes.

When was the last time she had seen him? Touched him? Smiled at him? She can't remember. Katie's funeral was a hazy fog that she couldn't remember, and even then she doubts she even looked his way, no matter how many times he attempted in approaching her. The sound of his voice on the recording makes her realize how lonely she really is, and how much she actually misses him. It makes her realize how much she needs to have him with her, soothing her and telling her that everything was going to be okay, even if it wasn't

Suddenly, she finds the solution to her current problem.

She sighs and bites her lip as she dials his number, admitting defeat. As the phone rings, she considers hanging up, finding another solution, even though she knows there wasn't one. She tries not to picture his face, because that would only fuel her need to see him again. It's an ongoing war while the receiver trills in her ear, an inner battle between her ego and her conscience.

Finally, it stops ringing.

"Hello?"

She doesn't know what to say when she hears that voice on the other end of the line.

They're listening to the finalized track when it happens, a muted vibration hidden in his back pocket. It takes a minute for him to realize that it's him ringing, and another to decide whether the call would be worth missing the song. Everyone is silent as the four voices flow from the speakers, harmonizing with Kendall's acoustic, listening, smiling, mouthing along. There's a sense of calm, the first taste they've had in days, and Carlos isn't sure if he wants to mess it up by taking a call.

But his phone is still vibrating, the buzz loud and annoying. He sighs and takes it in the next room.

"Hello?"

There's silence, complete and utter silence, and he wonders if he's getting prank called. He didn't think of checking caller ID. He pulls away from the phone, checks the screen, brown eyes widening at the name written over the numbers counting the minutes of the call. She still hasn't said anything, and he wants her to.

"Scar? Hello?"

It takes a moment, but she finally speaks, her voice small and far away.

"I got evicted."

Its late night early morning within the apartment of 2J, the moonlight casting shadows as the only awake inhabitant paces around in the living room, struggling to keep quiet so as not to wake the sleeping household. The last week had been hard on them: trying to get those notes perfect, getting the right feel, keeping it as organic as they could get it, recording and re-recording, swallowing back the emotion of being crammed in a studio singing to a girl that they all longed to see. Wrapping up was the most relieving experience for all of them, and the members of Big Time Rush were ready to turn in early.

Usually, Carlos would be the first one in his bed, blanket up to his chin, helmet on his night table, and mind far away in dreamland. But tonight, he was wide awake.

If he thought he was worrying about her before, it was nothing compared to how much he was worrying now. She had called in the late afternoon, her sentences short, answering his questions. He knew she was caught between hanging up and staying on the line, and he had been determined to keep her on long enough to convince her to come home.

"All my stuff is in my apartment."

"You just told me you got evicted."

"They gave me a day to collect my things."

"Then collect them and get over here."

She paused, and he pressed the receiver closer to his ear, as if that would somehow bring him closer to her. He was tired of calling, tired of listening to everyone around him leaving voicemails, not knowing if she was alright, where she was, not hearing her voice. That phone call was the closest he had been to her in weeks, and he needed to make it last.

"My key broke."

Now, in the dark of the apartment, Carlos can't help but chuckle. Leave it to Scarlet to rent some piece of crap apartment and not do anything about it until she gets locked out. They had agreed that she would stay in 2J until they found her a new place, but she still hadn't showed up.

The girl didn't have anything to pack, so where was she?

He picks up his phone, ready to dial 911 and file a missing person's report, when he hears the faintest of knocks on the front door. He's unsure why, but suddenly he's extremely nervous. Tip-toeing too quickly to the block of wood separating them, the Latino yanks the door open and takes a deep breath.

She's standing there and she looks like she's been having a rough week. There are dark bags under her eyes, making her eyes seem that much brighter and bigger. She has a single bag hanging off her shoulder, her clothes wrinkled and worn. She bites her lip when she sees him, wondering if what she did was right. She considers turning around and running out the same way she came in, but the smile that busts out on Carlos' face is enough to paralyze her.

"Hi." He breathes, chocolate eyes drinking her in, horrible as she may look.

Scarlet swallows, fidgets with her bag. "Hey."

In one swift move, his arm reaches out and she's inside the apartment. Her bag falls to the floor and she's staring at him, nervous and afraid. His eyes flicker over her face, and he's grinning like an idiot. The happiness of having her here with him is enough to block out Katie's death for a little while. He wants to kiss her. Just grab her and kiss her senseless on those plump lips she insists on biting into.

But he doesn't. She doesn't look like she's up for it. Honestly, she looks like she's in need of a hug.

They haven't really said anything yet. She doesn't know what to say. He's waiting for her to speak. Green eyes dart around the apartment, noticing small changes. The stack of boxes in the doorway. Scarlet knows where they came from. She doesn't want to think about that.

Carlos breaks the ice, curiosity getting the best of him.

"What took you so long?"

Scarlet bites her lip, it's driving him crazy. "I wasn't sure about coming."

Her confession hurts him, she can see it. "Why?"

She sighs, then she shrugs. Carlos shakes his head. He doesn't want to go over this right now. His arms wrap around her. Through her clothes he can feel the weight she's lost, her ribs stabbing into his skin as he pulls her against him. Her head falls onto his shoulder, and suddenly she's crying.

She didn't know she could miss someone this much.


End file.
